Meadow

You were the coldest star in the sky, Only I couldn't see it: I was blind. And in comes the black night, Calling your name since you were born, Only I couldn't hear it: I was empty as a drum.
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Oh, the land where her moths and fathers laid in the ground! How she missed them now, running wild along the white beach. How she wished with all her might they could see her and how happy they would be knowing their daughter lived.

Lived, lived, lived.

Beyond the reach of the Red and the Members and the bitter glances of starved children. She could feel her heart break a thousand times.

But here, now, she is free.

And she runs alongside him, keeping pace. Her legs are powerful, long and lean. He swerves away from her towards the driftwood and she watches him soar over it with ease. He is like an eagle with wide, golden wings. Lyubov tosses her head and races after the stallion.

The jump she makes is fluid and elegant. She leaps over the driftwood and finds herself back in stride with the stranger. Lyubov laughs as they run. “Comrade,” she says to him over the noise of their hooves and the ocean waves lapping at them. “Comrade, you run like hare in the woods! I have not met such a graceful stallion.”